When I was much younger, I use to write everyday! It was more than just essays and book reports, I first started with writing in journals and then progressed to writing in a more journalistic style while falling in love with news writing.
When I was unable to do get a job in the field of my desires, I moved back home, staring working in the family business again, and had little to no time for writing anymore. My passion got buried below and life continued as a “grown up.”
June 3, 2015 floats in as being the worst day of my life. The most horrible day of the year will always be the day my Daddy, Albert Joyner, left this earth, and went home to the Lord.
I was his shadow and he was my superhero. Nothing became the same anymore, and I fell into a deep depression that was very well hidden behind a smile for all to see. Several days later, I experienced that with great loss comes great discovery.
In preparation for my Daddy’s funerals (and yes I said funerals with a “S”), my cousin who was helping with the programs told me to write a reflection about my relationship I had with him. As much as I resisted, I painfully did it. Believe me it was hard, but when I saw it published in the programs,it gave me comfort that I express how much I loved and appreciated my Daddy.
Since you didn’t get a chance to read it, here it is:
To my Dearest Father:
The time will never come that I accept that you are not around. I’ve gone from my hearing your voice everyday, to not hearing your voice at all, almost overnight. Every time we were together, I always learned something from you (I may not have wanted you to know it, but I did). I’m so thankful that you and Mom chose to be your daughter. Thank you for allowing me to be the Allison that you see today.
Thank you for attending all of my plays, games, and concerts that I participated in. Especially those times when I didn’t have the lead, didn’t hit a home run, or didn’t get to sing the solo.
Thank you for being a constant example of what a positive role model is supposed to be, and what I strive for every day in my life.
Thank you for giving me the gift of mentorship, and what I attempt to do with the young people I am involved with at work and in my spear time.
Thank you for exposing me to my culture, and helping me be a proud African American woman. I will always appreciate the early Saturday morning that you woke Danielle and I up to see Nelson Mandela being released form prison in South Africa.
Thank you for teaching me the words to every Earth, Wind, & Fire song.
Thank you for teaching me how to run a business.
But especially, thank you for being my Daddy!
After that excerpt of honesty, requests for me writing started to trickle in. Several months later, my Uncle asked me to write a blog about a weekend adventure we had, then I had another request for writing another blog for my women’s service group, Links Inc., and my love for writing regrew from there!
I wanted to keep going, but I knew I was really rusty, so that’s why I decided to enroll in the S. I. Newhouse School of Public Communications for journalism innovation. Ever since I’ve had to start this blog site as one of my first assignments, I feel like a professional writer!
As the second anniversary of my Daddy’s death is approaching, I feel that my new life of writing came because of the ending of his life. Even in his death, he is still teaching me things that were inside of me that have been long forgotten.
I miss him so much, but now I feel more comfortable to live my life to the fullest. He knew that I will always be his daughter, always be his shadow, but I know he knew that I would always be a writer too.